


The Things We Don't Tell Our Children

by Lucinda_MH_Cheshir



Category: Children of the Lamp - P. B. Kerr
Genre: Gen, I'm Sorry, Mother-Son Relationship, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 23:34:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10398666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucinda_MH_Cheshir/pseuds/Lucinda_MH_Cheshir
Summary: It's Azazel's twelfth birthday, and he's just had his dragon teeth extracted. Since Dimme lost her djinn powers ten years ago, they travel by train to Las Vegas in the hopes that Dimme's brother Iblis might perform the Tammuz ceremony for his nephew, though Dimme holds little hope for this.Is it a oneshot? Is it going to be part of a larger work? Who the heck knows, I can't find anything to do with this in a larger plot sense, so I'm posting it here.





	

**June, 2005. Somewhere in Kansas.**

Dimme Teer and her nearly 12-years-old son, Azazel, sat side by side in seats 79 and 80 on train number 29 of the Amtrack East-West train bound for San Francisco. Dimme sat quietly, gazing out the window at the midnight sky outside the window, peppered as it was by the lights of cities and stations they passed, her thoughts miles away.

Azazel, despite the late hour, was antsy. He fiddled with the slightly sticky push-buttons, reclining his seat and then righting it, pulling out his new Nintendo DS to check on his Nintendog, a black German shepherd he had named Khan, or else dragging out a half-finished book of sudoku puzzles for all of five seconds before shoving it impatiently back into his green backpack.

At long last (it had been ten minutes) he tugged at his mother's sleeve again with restless energy.

"Mum," he stage-whispered, "Am I really going to meet Uncle Iblis?"

With reluctance, Dimme tore her tired gaze from the dimly-lit eddies of a river as they crossed it to address her son. 

"Yes, Azazel, you will meet my brother." She looked at him with world-weary eyes, unable to match his enthusiasm, and quite frankly worried that this whole affair was a mistake already.

"And you'll tell me who my real dad is?"

Dimme bit her lip. This was definitely a mistake. "Of course. On your birthday."

Azazel grinned, giddy with excitement. "And will he be there?"

Dimme paled, feeling nauseous.

"Bottle me, I hope not. I hope I never see him again, as long as I live."

Azazel seemed not to hear her. "And will we have tea with everyone? Is Bart going to be there? I hope so. What about other kids my age? Does Uncle Iblis have kids too, mum? Do they like Nintendo?"

"My brother does have a lot of sons," Dimme answered hesitantly, "I've no idea if any of them are close to you in age though, dear. Or if they like video games. I take it you're enjoying that machine?"

Azazel smiled more sheepishly. "Of course, mum. Thank you for giving it to me before the train trip."

"It was meant as a diversion." Dimme explained solemnly. "A diversion so that I could have some time to think."

Azazel laughed at his mother's tone.

"Okay, mum, I get it. I'm just so excited I can't stop thinking about it. I don't think I've ever been to a casino before. Are they really all run by our family?"

"All the profitable ones." Dimme explained stiffly, a bit miffed that Azazel hadn't taken her hint and stopped chattering like an overexcited toddler on his first trip to the zoo.

"And we're going to see the mountains, right? The really huge ones?"

"We'll pass through the Rockies sometime tomorrow night, I think." Dimme's answered vaguely, having become preoccupied with all the foolhardy promises she had made to her son. 

Was it really wise to tell her only son the truth about his biological father? To tell Azazel that he was the spawn of a demon, and that was the reason she'd shielded him from djinn company (save that of Bart) all this time, because they feared what he might become, and that was why it had been a secret to him... But that was a half-truth. The real reason Dimme did not so much as mention the demon's name, and hadn't for close to 10 years now was because, in spite of the secure knowledge that Beelzebub was sealed away where he could never harm her or anyone else for a good long while, the mere thought of him dredged up unpleasant and horrific memories that she would sooner bury deep within the remotest recesses of her mind than willingly recall.

Then there was the problem of Iblis. Her brother. Or, at least, he had been, before he'd screeched disownment at her just after... Those unpleasant things that she'd spent ten years trying to forget had happened. Iblis had made it superlatively clear that he wanted nothing to do with Dimme, Azazel, or...

"Mum," Azazel was tugging at her sleeve again.

She looked at him, slightly alarmed to have been drawn so abruptly out of her reverie, though a bit grateful as well. Some memories should stay buried.

"Yes, what is it, Azazel?"

"Who is 'Alistair'?"

Dimme flinched. This was not the first time Azazel had asked about Alistair (apparently Dimme mumbled in her sleep sometimes,) and so she gave her usual deflective answer. "Nobody important."

She expected his usual answer, a bitingly logical "If he's nobody important, then why do you mumble his name in your sleep?" Followed by a drop of the subject; Azazel rarely questioned her judgement on matters such as these.

Azazel, however, had other ideas. "Mum, I'm nearly 12 years old and I already have my dragon teeth out. Don't you think it's time you start giving me answers? Is he my dad? You can tell me if he is."

"He's not," Dimme said before she had paused to think. She bit her lip again, hoping in vain that her son would drop the subject. He did not.

"So who is he then?" Azazel insisted, blond eyebrows furrowed with determination.

Dimme didn't know what exactly caused her to give in. Perhaps it was the lateness of the hour, perhaps it was her unsuccessful avoidance of memories of decade-old traumas, or perhaps it was her son's earnestness mixed with a subconscious exercise of his djinn powers that made her tell the truth.

"Alistair was your brother." Dimme explained without meeting his eyes.

Azazel was shocked. "I have a brother? With the same dad and everything?"

Dimme nodded.

"What happened to him? Where is he?" Azazel's green eyes were wide.

Dimme flinched again. "I don't know. He vanished about nine years ago."

Azazel paused, digesting this information. "Is that why we moved around so much when I was small? You were looking for him?"

"One of the reasons," Dimme said hesitantly. There was much about that time in her life that she had long since decided that her son need never know, and they were treading in dangerous waters now, even more so since they were headed to speak with her long-estranged brother, and she had very little idea what he might say to her, or to Azazel. He had, after all, made his views abundantly clear a decade ago. And aside from the odd weepy and conciliatory but ultimately meaningless drunk-dial (a few came each year, even though Dimme had changed her phone number twice since the first call had occurred,) and a memorable incident when she had caught his third son, Dahnash, apparently spying on her, Dimme had seen very little of Iblis and his brood over the past decade.

She had worried, when Azazel's Dragon Teeth had first presented themselves, how she was going to manage a proper Tammuz for him. It was not a new worry, by any means; she had worried about who might instruct her son in the ways of djinn power, ever since she had lost her own powers.

She glanced sidelong at her son, who was still digesting with no small amount of shock the news that he had had a brother. Dimme sighed, knowing that she'd do anything for Azazel, not only because he was her son and she loved him, but also because he was all she had left. Sighing again, Dimme reached out and tucked a blond lock of hair behind Azazel's ear. As though her touch had triggered something, Azazel looked at her, jaw set and brow furrowed, determined again.

"Mum, when I learn to use my powers, I'm going to find him. I'll find Alistair for you. I promise."

Dimme only smiled. She didn’t have the heart to tell her son how doomed his promise was.

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo... I wrote this last summer and it left me so emotionally compromised that I'm still trying to process it. I made my kid sister read it, to check that I'm not too out of touch with the way young people think (dear god when did 20 get so old????) and she told me that she could name at least two boys in her class that act exactly like tiny Azazel does.  
> Also I'm going to point out that Azazel's Nintendog Khan is still a more villainous Khan than Rashleigh. Never going to let that go. You'll have to pry my bitterness about the last two CotL books from my cold, dead hands.  
> ~Lucinda <3


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